


I'll Show You, Baby

by stardropdream



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Double Penetration, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Fluff and Smut, Galra Keith (Voltron), M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Season 8 Doesn't Exist, Switching, Top Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 19:26:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17229800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: “Shiro,” he asks, “Did you know that the Galra have a second puberty?”“No,” Shiro answers, cautious, although he thinks now of Keith’s purpling stripes at his hips, about the way he can always see Keith’s eyes reflecting in the dark, about the slightest points of his ears he’s noticed over the last few months, about Keith’s increase of furry leg hair Shiro loves.“Well, they do.”Or: Keith's dick goes through some interesting changes. Shiro's super into it.





	I'll Show You, Baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allrealities](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allrealities/gifts).



> Request fic written for [cyborgtopus](https://twitter.com/cyborgtopus), who requested Keith and Shiro in an established relationship but where Keith's hiding some Galra puberty shenanigans. 
> 
> Also, this is post canon but s8? whomst is she?

When Shiro enters his captain’s quarters after Alpha shift, Keith’s already there. His one hand works absently at the button of his uniform collar and the other traces over his datapad, skirting the words of an incoming order for the Atlas and her crew. 

Shiro pauses in the doorway, just looking at Keith. His braid’s come a little loose from the long day, the long tail draped over his shoulder but the little bits and flyaways framing his face. The dim lighting on this floor, simulating evening light, softens his face into something almost ethereal. 

Shiro stands there in the doorway, thinking how beautiful Keith really is, and then remembers that he’s allowed to act on that thought now— and stops hovering in the doorway to instead press up against Keith’s back, his arm curling easily around his waist and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck in greeting. 

Keith lets out a soft _mmf_ sound of surprise, any annoyance softened by his smile, and leans back against Shiro’s broad chest. The hand at Keith’s collar drops down to touch the hand splayed over his belly. That action alone makes Shiro feel giddy.

“And hello to you, too, Captain,” Keith teases. 

“Hey, babe,” Shiro answers, warmed as he always is when he gets to call Keith that, smiling more when he feels Keith shiver in his arms. He tightens his hold, nosing at his jaw. “Busy?” 

“I _was_ going to discuss this paperwork with you, but apparently you have other plans,” Keith says. He smiles, though, and leans back against Shiro with his full weight, relaxed and happy. 

“We’re still a solar cycle away from the rendezvous with Allura and Lance on Olkari,” Shiro offers with a shrug. He keeps his voice neutral, holding back his smile— his delight in having Keith here; it’s only been a few hours since they last saw each other, but then it’d only been lunchtime and he hadn’t been able to hold him like this. He keeps his tone light when he says, casual, “Bridge is covered. Crew’s otherwise occupied. Thought maybe we could… hang out.” 

Keith snorts. “Sure. _Hang out._ ” 

Shiro doesn’t even try to hide his grin now as Keith wriggles and turns in his arms to look up at him. Shiro keeps smiling, feeling stupid and goofy, as he crowds into Keith’s space, pushing him up against his desk. Keith shifts, angles his hips away, and then drapes his arms over Shiro’s shoulders, smiling up at him. 

“Guess I have the time to hang out with you, too,” Keith offers, his mouth tilting up in one corner, playful and lopsided. Shiro knows that face, though— knows how much Keith missed him, too. He wouldn’t be lurking in Shiro’s room if he didn’t. 

“I like your hair today,” Shiro offers, fumbling, still uncertain how exactly to flirt with Keith. Their relationship is too new and he’s too used to walking up to Keith and calling him _buddy_ instead of _baby_. Complimenting his hair is hardly flirtation at all, more a compliment he’d have given a boy when he was elven and didn’t know any better way to express his feelings. He blushes. 

Keith preens, all the same, and murmurs, “It’s a mess.” Then he says, “I like yours, too.”

When Keith says it, it doesn’t sound like a child trying to flirt and more like he means it, his eyes heated as he looks at Shiro. Shiro feels his cheeks flush more, his hand floating up to tug a little self-consciously at the messy bun at the back of his head. 

“I keep meaning to cut it,” Shiro demurs. 

“You always say that,” Keith says, sinking his hands into Shiro’s hair. He bats his eyelashes. “I like it.” 

It’s the truth, though— that he’s been meaning to cut it. They’ve been out in space bordering on two decaphoebs now and there’s always something to do, always something else to focus on. Shiro knows better than to think that saving the universe would mean the universe would just relax a little, but it’s just not the case. Pidge said just the other day that Green was starting to feel restless all cooped up on the Atlas, and Shiro can’t blame the Lions for it— there hasn’t been much for the Atlas or Voltron to do over the last few weeks aside from their assigned humanitarian efforts. Still, there are worse problems— and Shiro can’t complain; if their team, their friends are alive and together, then that’s a win. He can handle having no time to cut his hair if it means they’re doing good. 

He lets Keith play with his hair and Shiro utterly melts once Keith starts circling his scalp with his thumbs, massaging his head. 

“Wow,” he murmurs and Keith chuckles. He feels Keith hesitate, and then lean up to kiss his cheek. 

They look at each other and Shiro smiles, helplessly. Everything is still too new, but he loves that feeling— that small reminder, every time, that he’s allowed to say what he’s thinking or act on what he wants when it comes to Keith. That Keith feels the same way as him. 

“So,” he offers, quiet, his hands finding Keith’s hips and turning him away from the desk and walking him backwards towards the bed. “Solar cycle. That’s a lot of time to _hang out_.” 

Keith snorts, but he doesn’t even look annoyed, only amused. “Sure. Let’s hang out.” 

He could easily stop Shiro’s guiding if he wanted, but he goes willingly and laughs as his knees hit the back of the bed and he falls onto the mattress, tugging Shiro up after him. He leans up and catches Shiro’s mouth in a sweet kiss that leaves Shiro melting all over again. 

Shiro runs his hands up Keith’s stomach and chest, helps him unbutton his uniform coat and shrug out of it, peel off the underlayer. He presses easy kisses against his smiling mouth, the line of his jaw, down his neck and over his chest. He lets Keith sink his hands into his hair and tugs so strands come loose and fall into his eyes. He yanks Shiro’s captain’s uniform off, stripping him down to his underwear in a way that’s astoundingly effective and devastatingly attractive in its versatility. He always knew Keith was clever with his hands. 

It’s not the first time they’ve had sex in the two weeks since they got together and there’s already an ease that Shiro loves— how easy it is, in the end, to move from just friendship with Keith to a relationship. It’s simple, it’s easy, it’s passionate— Keith’s grabbed him enough times and yanked him out of hallways just to press him against hidden alcoves to mouth at his throat. Keith’s reached beneath the waistline of his pants and tugged on his cock enough just to get him half-hard and willing to follow Keith anywhere and do anything. Keith is enthusiastic and sweet, kisses him when he wakes up from nightmares and holds him until Shiro’s heart settles, or spars with him in the Atlas’ training floors in a way that isn’t _overtly_ sexual enough to make everybody else uncomfortable, and most of all, Keith just wants to spend time with him, and Shiro with Keith in turn— they eat their meals together, go to sleep together, train together, and execute their missions together. 

They’re _together_ and Shiro’s always going to marvel at that. He never forgets, but it hits him at quiet moments throughout the day. Like when Voltron heads out to check on a distress signal and Shiro tells them over the comms to be careful and Keith responds, _Yes, sir_ , and Shiro will suddenly remember, _Oh, he loves me._ Or like when he’ll be feeling too tired, rubbing his thumb absently at the pinch between his eyebrows and Keith will hip-check him as he walks by, smiling over his shoulder and Shiro will remember that, later that night, he’ll get to hold Keith and tell him how wonderful he is. 

Shiro’s never going to get used to that. He never wants to get used to it. 

Keith shifts beneath him now, pushing their shed clothes off the bed to crumble on the floor. There’s an obvious bulge in Keith’s pants but when Shiro reaches for it, Keith grabs his hand and threads their fingers together, dragging it up to press stray kisses against Shiro’s knuckles. 

So instead of stripping Keith, Shiro leans up and kisses him, nipping at his mouth and then deepening that kiss when Keith sighs and relaxes, tension easing from his shoulders. It’s slow and easy, the kind of kissing that Shiro loves— swallowing every sigh and breath Keith takes, feeling him respond to Shiro’s kisses with his own. Shiro’s free hand cups his hip and holds. 

Keith lets go of his hand after that, palming at Shiro through his underwear, and then tugging the boxer briefs down enough to get his hand around Shiro’s cock. Shiro groans as Keith strokes over him, twisting his hand. His touch is firm in just the way Shiro loves, just on the edge of being too hard, and he loves that intensity in Keith. He keens a little when Keith thumbs at his cockhead, thumb dragging, fingers deft and confident. 

“Babe,” Shiro groans as he breaks the kiss, pillowing his lips over Keith’s jaw, smiling against his throat as Keith hums happily and squeezes his cock. Shiro ducks his head and pants, dragging his eyes over Keith’s body. 

Keith has two sets of stripes on either side of his hips. They were faint at first, nearly the same tone as the rest of his skin, and Shiro only noticed them because he helped Keith dress his wounds after his Marmora Trials and got up close enough to see. That was years ago now, but the stripes are still there. Shiro’s noticed them over the past two weeks. 

Shiro likes those stripes. They’re getting more and more purple, it seems, a deepening color like a bruise— he can guess that, overtime, they’ll become more amethyst purple. With the purple hue and that new knowledge of Galra, Shiro thinks they look a little bit like Krolia’s cheek stripes (if he’s willing to think of his boyfriend’s mother while in bed with said boyfriend; and he really, really isn’t willing). 

He traces his thumb down one, smiling to himself, his thumb stopping at the hem of Keith’s pants. Keith’s hand stills around his cock. Then he pulls away, propping himself up and resting his weight on his elbows. 

“Lights down to three percent,” Keith calls out and the lights dim immediately, dark enough that he can only make out a vague outline of Keith’s body as Keith rolls over, exposing his back.

Only then does Keith start wriggling out of his pants and underwear, not fully stripping but tugged down low enough to expose his ass and thighs. The light is too low for Shiro to get a good look, but he runs his hand appreciatively down Keith’s back and feels him arch. He cups his ass and squeezes, and laughs when Keith squirms and curses at him. 

He’s used to this, too— their first night having sex, Keith took charge. He shoved Shiro around and kissed him until Shiro couldn’t breathe. Keith dragged his cock into his mouth and pulled moans from Shiro until he was coming down his throat and left breathless, panting Keith’s name like a prayer. After that, Keith had rolled onto his stomach with a firm, _Lights stay out, you fuck me, and you don’t touch my dick._

Shiro always was good at following orders, and it didn’t surprise him that Keith would take charge. He liked that confidence, liked the surety of how Keith guided him. If this was what Keith liked, Shiro wasn’t about to complain. He’d spent a long time opening Keith up, memorizing every mewl and plea Keith gasped out, arching against Shiro’s body as he rocked back to meet Shiro’s cock, Shiro’s hands obediently touching only his chest or hips, no matter how desperately he wanted to help Keith get off. 

When it happened a second time and a third time, when Keith insisted on taking the lights down every time, on never facing Shiro— perhaps it became less about preferences and Keith’s interests and more to do with something else that he wasn’t telling Shiro. But Shiro’s hardly one to blame Keith for insecurities about his body. He’s still a little self-conscious about his scars, even if he knows Keith would never find them ugly. He’s seen Keith naked before— communal showers will leave little to the imagination— but this is different and more vulnerable. He can’t blame Keith for that discomfort and knows, in time, Keith will relax. He can be patient and wait for Keith to talk to him. 

Keith wriggles his ass back impatiently when Shiro spends too much time prepping him, two fingers buried inside him. Keith grunts, rocking his hips back. Shiro’s other hand steadies at the center of his back, pushing him down against the mattress so it’s only his ass in the air. He knows Keith would look pretty like this, face pressed hard against the pillow, panting, cheeks flushed, hair in his eyes. If only the lights were up enough for him to really appreciate it. For now, he goes by touch, by sensation.

“Just fuck me,” Keith whines, clenching around Shiro’s fingers, and Shiro gulps and can’t help but obey. He shifts up, drapes his body over Keith as he’s done before, one hand under his chest to hold him up pressed to Shiro, his other hand fisting his cock and guiding it to press against Keith’s rim. He lets his cockhead catch and drag in the way that always makes Keith whine. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Shiro tells him, voice soft and moony. 

Keith laughs, and Shiro can’t tell if it’s disbelieving or delighted, can’t make out his expression in the dark, with Keith’s head bowed down and pressing into the pillow. 

Shiro wants to give Keith what he likes— always wants to make it good for Keith. He always feels good, he likes to feel Keith rocking beneath him. He likes to hold Keith in his arms, feel how small and strong he really is. 

Keith shifts and squirms beneath him, shoulders tense. Shiro hesitates. A hand falls on Keith’s shoulder, massaging, knuckles digging. Keith doesn’t relax, body held taut as a bow as he waits for Shiro to press inside and fuck him. 

“Hey… do you think— I want to see your face, Keith,” Shiro offers, tentatively. He loves the way Keith looks right after they part from a kiss, how half-lidded and soft Keith always looks. He loves the way Keith looks right after he comes and finally looks back at Shiro. He wants to watch every shift and change come over Keith’s face. He wants to look into his eyes. It’s sappy, but it’s what he wants. 

Keith stills for a moment and then he twists, enough to look at Shiro over his shoulder. It isn’t quite what Shiro means, but he doesn’t press it. Keith’s eyes reflect light even in dark, an eerie glow. _Like a cat,_ Shiro thinks and leans in to kiss him. Keith is tense beneath him, shoulders rigid and body tight. 

“Babe,” Shiro whispers, nosing into his hair, kissing his ear. “Keith, baby, you know you have to relax.” 

Keith blows out a long breath and shifts beneath him, trying to get his body to relax. 

“I can stop,” Shiro murmurs, as he always does, and lifts his hips away. 

“No,” Keith demands. He sounds desperate for a moment, squirming in Shiro’s arms. His hand reaches back and cups Shiro’s hip, guiding him back again. “Shiro, no. I want this. I want you. I’m okay.” 

Shiro wants to know what Keith isn’t saying but knows demanding will be no use. He nuzzles into the pieces of hair knocked loose from Keith’s braid and kisses the slope of his neck, each bump of his spine. 

Shiro can remember too well the early days of their friendship, how prickly Keith could be— not because Shiro was annoying him, but because Keith didn’t trust it could last, couldn’t trust that he was worth it. Keith was always waiting, Shiro knows, for everything to end.

The same can be said of their relationship. It’s been building for a while, but their _official_ relationship is still relatively new. Shiro trusts Keith to say if something isn’t working for him and can guess that whatever uncertainty he perceives in Keith is born from Keith’s own view of himself. If Shiro were doing something wrong, Keith would tell him. That he hasn’t means Keith is processing his own thing. He knows Keith will tell him when he’s ready, and in the meantime, what Shiro can do is to stay by him— and be patient. 

“I love you,” he murmurs, as if Keith needs the reminding. 

“I love you, too,” Keith echoes, his voice breathless— not with desire, but wonder, as he always sounds whenever Shiro offers the words to him. Shiro kisses his shoulder, hopes some of the tension will ease. 

It doesn’t. 

“Actually,” Shiro says, finally, and pulls back. Keith is too tense and Shiro’s gone soft against him. “Can we stop for a minute?” 

Keith sucks in a breath and twists around again to look at him. His eyes are wide, reflective. 

“Are you okay?” he’s quick to ask him and Shiro nods. 

“I just need a moment,” Shiro confesses. He pauses and then warns, “I’m… Can we turn the lights back on?” 

He waits before issuing the command to the lights panel, watches Keith squirm in the dark as he wriggles back into his pants before turning more fully towards Shiro. He reaches for Shiro and pulls him close. He feels less tense beneath Shiro’s hands and he settles into the circle of Shiro’s arms to kiss him. 

“Lights on to eighty percent,” Keith says and they both blink as they adjust to the sudden brightness. Keith touches Shiro’s face, frowning, looking uncertain and a little small. “Shiro… what’s wrong?” 

“Are you really into this, Keith?” Shiro asks, hands flexing at Keith’s waist, thumbs touching his stripes. Keith looks like he’s going to protest and Shiro assures, quickly, “You need to tell me if I’m hurting you. You’re always so tense. If you don’t like this—” 

“It’s not that,” Keith says, voice softening. He touches Shiro’s cheek and frowns. “God. I’m sorry. Please don’t think that.” 

Shiro closes his eyes, leaning into Keith’s touch. “Keith,” he answers, quiet, “You know you can tell me anything. Whatever it is. You can trust me.”

“I do trust you,” Keith says, and Shiro knows that, nods against Keith’s hand. He turns his head and presses a kiss to the center of Keith’s palm. When he opens his eyes, Keith looks uncertain. “I trust you, Shiro.” 

“You don’t have to tell me. Just— I don’t think it’s working like this right now. I thought this was just what you liked, but… you’re always so tense.” 

“It’s embarrassing,” Keith hedges.

“What, sex?” Shiro asks.

Keith shakes his head and heaves a deep sigh. He presses his hand to his face and rubs at his eyes for a moment— not tearing up but looking tired. He reaches out after that, tucking the long strands of Shiro’s hair back behind his ears. 

Shiro reaches out, tentatively, presses his hands over Keith’s thighs. He squeezes them and keeps them there, closer to his knees than up towards his hips. 

“You know I think you’re beautiful,” Shiro tells him, quietly. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known, in this entire universe.”

Keith chuckles, cheeks turning pink. “Sap.” 

Shiro strokes his thumb along the inner seam of Keith’s pants, lightly. He smiles, tentative, when Keith meets his eyes. “You know I get it if you’re self-conscious. I mean, look at me.” 

He gestures mockingly towards himself— the soft cock between his legs, his scars zig-zagging over his body, the large port on his shoulder, the silver hair. He’d once mockingly asked, _Oh yeah, who wouldn’t want a piece of this?_ and Keith had scowled and defended him. That was before they even got together. 

Keith doesn’t scowl now but, instead, says with perfect earnestness: “You’re so handsome, Shiro.” 

“So what is it?” Shiro asks, but when Keith doesn’t answer, he sighs and touches Keith’s chin, tilting it up to look at him. He smiles. “Hey. Never mind. You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. We can call it a night. Want to go get some food?”

Keith’s face ripples for a moment, then seems to settle on begrudging disbelief coupled with endearment. “You’d just drop it? Just like that?” 

“Of course,” Shiro answers. “Whatever you need, baby. I’ll give it to you.” 

Keith ducks his head and sighs. Then he throws his head back and stares at the ceiling, letting out a louder sigh— debating with himself. He closes his eyes, steadies, and then looks at Shiro once more. 

“Shiro,” he asks, “Did you know that the Galra have a second puberty?” 

“No,” Shiro answers, cautious, although he thinks now of Keith’s purpling stripes at his hips, about the way he can always see Keith’s eyes reflecting in the dark, about the slightest points of his ears he’s noticed over the last few months, about Keith’s increase of furry leg hair Shiro loves. 

“Well, they do.” The words are definitive, but Keith looks skittish again, hands curling around his braid and tugging. 

Shiro reaches out to steady one hand, curls their fingers together. Keith holds tight.

“Is this what you’re worried about? Something changed?” 

Keith’s gone through enough changes over the last few years. Shiro can still remember the stutter in his heart when Keith stepped off the ship after two years on a Space Whale. Beyond that, too, Keith’s grown taller the last few years since they won against Haggar, his muscles more defined and toned. He’s still willowy and toned, but strong. Shiro loves it whenever Keith can manhandle him, and it occurs to him now that the concept of a _second puberty_ might cause changes. Shiro definitely doesn’t miss his own awkward puberty at age thirteen, and sympathizes that poor Keith’s had to suffer it twice over now. 

Keith says, “It happened for me not too long after— everything. When we won, I mean. And— you know, long before we ever got together. I— I’ve been trying to find the moment to tell you but no moment’s been good and—”

He cuts himself off and looks at Shiro helplessly. 

Shiro smiles, hopes it’s comforting. “It’s okay.” 

“You have to promise not to freak out.” 

“Keith,” Shiro says and squeezes his hand. “I love you. And I love you because of who you are, not because of what you look like. But, for the record, I think you’re beautiful and I’m going to think you’re beautiful no matter what Galra puberty does to you.” 

He can’t imagine what Keith could be holding back. Shiro’s curious but can’t help but picture Keith having purple pubes or something. 

“Yeah?” Keith asks.

“Yeah,” Shiro says. “And I want to have sex with you, too. For the record.”

“Haven’t noticed that,” Keith says, almost smiling. 

“But I want it in a way that’ll make you comfortable and feel good.” 

Keith nods. He chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment, hand flexing in Shiro’s hand as if about to pull back and start tugging on his braid again. Shiro lifts their hands instead and kisses the back of Keith’s, then the inside of his wrist, the little knobbed bone there. 

“God, okay. I should just show you. That’ll be easier.” 

Keith pulls his hands back and sits up onto his knees. Shiro leans back a bit to give him that space, curious despite himself but mostly just worried. Keith fiddles with his pants and stops, blushing. He hesitates. 

Shiro’s about to assure him again when Keith sucks in a deep breath and just yanks his pants and underwear down. 

Shiro’s not sure what he expected, but it’s not what he sees in front of him.

For about half a second, Shiro thinks Keith just has three balls and no dick. Once he gives himself a moment to look, though, he realizes that there’re Keith’s balls but also something thicker above them, curled up in a spiral (Shiro’s brain helpfully summons the image of a snail’s shell, which is hardly sexy). That’s Keith’s cock, Shiro realizes, just all curled up and tucked up against Keith’s body. 

Keith shifts a little, body trembling and face red. Shiro watches as Keith lets out a breath and then the curled-up cock unspools. It moves like a prehensile tail, slowly unfurling. Once done, the spiraling structure of the cock seems to split, twisting around itself the way Keith’s braid comes undone in Shiro’s hands some nights. It’s not just one, but—

“You,” Shiro says, faint, “have two dicks.” 

“Yeah,” Keith answers, voice impossibly small, face entirely red when Shiro looks up at him. 

Shiro’s quiet for a moment, but watches the tension rise in Keith’s shoulders the longer Shiro’s silent. So Shiro shifts forward, making sure Keith sees him reaching for him before he makes that contact, tugging Keith forward and wrapping him up in a tight hug. Keith clings, letting out a shaky breath. 

“I thought you’d— I don’t know. Think it’s— _they’re_ weird. Freaky,” Keith confesses. He cringes in Shiro’s arms and Shiro nuzzles into his shoulder instinctively, seeking to comfort him. 

“No way,” Shiro tells him and hopes the response isn’t dismissive. He pulls back enough to meet Keith’s eyes. He’s still flushed but can’t disguise the hopeful look he casts towards Shiro. Shiro brushes his thumb along the line of his jaw. “Keith,” he says, “Hey— it’s alright. Definitely don’t think they’re freaky.” 

Keith breathes out and slumps against him, all the tension leeching from his body. Shiro rubs his back, kneading into those muscles. “My— I mean, it was normal before,” Keith mutters. “Then it changed and the second one showed up.” 

“Huh,” Shiro answers— definitely a bigger deal than purple pubes, then. “… You’re big.” 

Keith lets out a surprised bark of a laugh and pushes at Shiro’s shoulder. “Shut up. Don’t sound so surprised.” 

Shiro laughs and leans in, hovering close until Keith bridges the distance and kisses him, cupping his face. 

“God,” Keith murmurs once they break apart, ducking his head. “I knew you’d— I knew once I told you, you’d be understanding since, you know, you’re you. But…” 

“You were still nervous?” Shiro guesses. 

Keith nods and Shiro sighs, running his hands over Keith’s back again and then drawing away enough to cup his hips. Those purple stripes he likes so much, he realizes, converge just above Keith’s cocks, like little arrows directing his eyes. 

“Hey,” Shiro whispers, kissing Keith’s face. Keith hums, closing his eyes and just letting Shiro shower him with that attention. Shiro noses at his ear and then bumps his mouth up against him, voice low when he says, “You don’t have to be nervous. I love you.” 

“Mm,” Keith hums, looking relieved.

“And I love every part of you,” Shiro continues, watches the blush bloom over Keith’s cheeks again. He rubs his thumb over his hip, gently. “Want to still call it a night? We can go get something to eat and just relax, watch a movie, if you want.” 

He wants to be understanding, wants to reassure Keith, but he blinks in surprise when Keith wilts. “Oh,” he says, voice wooden. “I thought— You don’t want to go back to what we were doing?” 

“Babe,” Shiro’s quick to say. “You have no idea how bad I want to suck you off right now.” 

Keith blinks at him in surprise, and then lets out a nervous little giggle. “ _Oh._ ” 

“I’m trying to be a gentleman.” Shiro doesn’t pout, but he keeps the tone light— he doesn’t know the protocol here.

“Well, stop,” Keith says, and there’s almost a tease to his voice. He looks less like a cornered animal now, more hopeful. “You really want to do that?” 

“If you wanted me to,” Shiro demurs but smiles helplessly, boyish and stupid and in love. “Can I touch you?”

Keith nods and sucks in a deep breath when Shiro shifts his hand off his hip and reaches, touching one of Keith’s cocks. Keith’s eyelids flutter and then shut as Shiro curls his hand around him. He’s silky to the touch, the cock weighted in his hand and flushed the slightest hint of purple. The dick tapers off into a soft rounded point but doesn’t have a discernible flared head like Shiro’s cock and there’re raised ridges on the underside, something like little purple bumps. He strokes down, glancing at the cock as it twitches in his hand and up to watch Keith’s face. 

Keith shudders, full-bodied, and lets out a rushed gasp. “Sorry,” he says a moment later, embarrassed. “Nobody’s— I mean. Well. You know.”

Shiro does know and he squeezes around Keith’s cock. The other cock shifts, twitches against Shiro’s knuckles and Shiro lets go to get both cocks into the circle of his fist, stroking them. They quiver in his hands, bending and twisting around Shiro’s hand in turn, then they curl around themselves like before, a thick, corkscrewed spiral. 

“Wow,” Shiro says, for lack of anything else to say. 

“You look happy,” Keith says in a quiet voice, a tone Shiro can’t quite place right away. He looks up to Keith again and their eyes meet. There’s something fragile in the way Keith looks at him, cheeks flushed. “I thought…”

Shiro presses his forehead to Keith’s, lingering there. He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but holds Keith’s cocks in his hand, refuses to let go. They squirm in his hand and Keith squirms in turn. 

Quietly, Shiro says, “I’m happy, Keith. I— all I want is to make you feel good. I was so worried you weren’t having fun. I want it to be so good for you, baby.” 

“It was. I did,” Keith says, “I— I did have fun. I just got nervous you’d accidentally touch me and get weirded out.” He wriggles his hips and Shiro squeezes around him just to see his expression shudder. He gasps out and says, “You really like this?”

“I like everything about you,” Shiro says. “Let me show you how much I like you.” 

Keith laughs. “That’s so corny.” 

But before Shiro can protest, Keith drags him in and kisses him, slow and sloppy. He sucks Shiro’s tongue into his mouth and groans, wriggling closer to him until he’s settling into Shiro’s lap, rocking forward into Shiro’s hand. His cocks twitch and tighten in their spiral. Shiro’s cock responds in turn, hardening as Keith squirms in his lap. He can’t remember the last time he got this hard so quickly. 

“Keith,” Shiro whimpers when their kiss breaks and Keith’s panting above him, hands planted on his shoulders to keep himself steady as he rolls his hips down to grind into Shiro’s lap. “Will you— can I—”

He’s thoroughly overwhelmed with everything he wants to do at once— to have Keith ride him, just like this, face to face, to watch Keith as he comes, to actually _see_ his expression in that moment. To get down on his knees and worship Keith’s cocks the way he deserves. To just keep touching him until he spills over into his hands— to taste his come across his fingertips. 

“Tell me,” Keith demands, and his hands reach up to push the hair from Shiro’s face, knocked looser still from his bun, fingers twisting in the shorter pieces of his hair. Keith is nothing but demanding in these moments, and it’s assuring to see his confidence as instinctive rather than born from anxiety. 

“I— I want you. Want you to fuck me,” Shiro realizes as he’s speaking the words just how _true_ that is, can feel how thick and warm Keith’s cocks are in his hand, how he’d feel with them wriggling and twisting inside him. He bites his lip and looks up at Keith. “Do you—”

Keith doesn’t let him finish, shoving him down onto the bed and climbing up after him, kissing him hard. He hears that sharp sound Keith makes when he’s deep into his desire, something between a growl and a purr— another consequence of Galra puberty, he thinks— and when he bites at Shiro’s lip, he feels the prick of his fangs. 

“Both of them?” Keith asks once he pulls away, eyes slit and fangs glinting in the artificial light. There’s a hint of a purr to his voice, vibrating in his chest. “They’re flexible enough if you only want one at a time.” 

Shiro gasps and shudders beneath Keith and Keith looks smug. “Holy shit, Keith,” he manages to mutter between the flurry of kisses he presses to Keith’s smirking mouth. “God. I want both.” 

Keith gets off him long enough to fish the lube out from where Shiro left it before, tucked underneath their pillows.

“Can I suck you off? Please? Baby, I want you so bad,” Shiro says, his voice desperate, and he knows he must sound so needy, but he doesn’t care, especially not if it means Keith’s flushing with pride, preening as he flips his braid back over his shoulder, laughter in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” Keith says, all confidence now. “Come here.” 

Shiro rolls onto his stomach and crawls to him, letting Keith catch him by the chin and drag him up to kiss him. Shiro takes the lube from him and flips the cap, slicking Keith’s fingers up for him. He suckles on Keith’s bottom lip as he strokes his fingers with his hand. Keith chuckles and bites hard enough to let it sting, his fangs dragging over Shiro’s lip. 

They part from the kiss, looking at each other. Shiro nuzzles his jaw with a pleased sigh. “Fuck my face, sweetheart? Open me up for you.” 

“God!” Keith gasps, and then groans as he bites at Shiro’s jawline. “You’re so into this.” 

He sounds wondering, surprised, and Shiro wants to kiss all doubt from him. Instead, he settles for flipping onto his back again and looking up at Keith invitingly, even goes so far as to waggle his eyebrows. He’s overeager, he’s desperate— so be it. Let Keith know how amazing he is, Shiro figures. Keith’s expression gentles, wonderment and love all at once, and Shiro loves that so much about Keith— how open his expressions are, how easily he lets himself be vulnerable with Shiro. 

Shiro squirms on his back, settling, and shaking out his shoulders as best he can without having to sit up. He clears his throat a few times and works his jaw. He must look ridiculous, because Keith’s giving him an absurd look, holding back his laughter. 

“What are you even doing?”

“I’m trying to… I don’t know. Warm up my throat?” He shrugs his shoulders. 

Keith wrinkles his nose and does laugh this time. “What, like how singers drink olive oil or whatever?”

Shiro cringes. “I’m not drinking olive oil, not even for you, Keith.” 

“But you’ll put my dicks in your mouth?” Keith asks, grinning, cheeks flushed. 

“Obviously,” Shiro answers. “I like your dicks.” Keith’s face turns completely pink and Shiro presses, “I _love_ your dicks.” 

Keith’s mouth twitches with a helpless smile. He touches Shiro’s cheek with his non-slicked hand, thumb pressing against his lip. Shiro smiles up at him, flushed and eager, and kisses the pad of his thumb. 

“You’re really something,” Keith says, softly, and then more firmly, “Gonna fuck your face.” 

Shiro keens. Then he pats his chest with a grin. “Up you get, babe. Your throne awaits.” 

“And what a throne it is,” Keith says, wrinkling his nose and trying not to laugh again. He hits Shiro on the chest lightly, without any real heat, but then swings his leg up over his chest and settles above him. He’s facing Shiro’s cock and shifts up enough that he’s hovering above Shiro’s mouth. 

His cocks hang down for a moment, curling and uncurling, unsure how to settle. Shiro reaches up and touches the tip of one of the cocks and it shivers, wriggling before it stiffens up. Shiro grips it at its base and with a few shallow tugs, guides Keith to the position he wants. 

Keith’s watching him carefully, then says, “Pinch my hip if you want me to pull back, okay?” 

“Sure, baby,” Shiro agrees and lets Keith settle above him, digging his knees into the mattress and stretching down the length of Shiro’s body, hands gripping his own hips in turn. Shiro lifts his hips, just slightly, when one of Keith’s hands ghost over his thigh. 

He lets Keith adjust, shifting his hips and glancing back down when one of his cocks slides against Shiro’s cheek. Shiro bites back the gasp and watches one of Keith’s hands disappear between his legs, then feels the brush of Keith’s finger against his rim. He shudders appreciatively as Keith circles around him, then slides one finger in. Shiro’s accustomed to taking his own prosthetic fingers and so it’s hardly a breach, but a pleasant feeling because it’s Keith inside him. 

He strokes down on one of Keith’s cocks and guides it into his mouth. He suckles just at the tip, swirling his tongue until he feels the long slit just at the underside of the cock. Keith cries out in surprise and nearly jerks forward enough that he shoves his cock deep into Shiro’s mouth. Not that Shiro would mind that, but he grips Keith hard at the base of his cock and keeps licking, dragging his tongue along the underside of the cock, circling each raised bump along its underside, punctuating each swirl with a little suckle. 

Keith’s already panting above him, hypersensitive and on edge, and Shiro’s right there with him, squirming as Keith pumps first one finger and then squirms a second one inside him, opening him up. Keith’s cock isn’t rigid the way Shiro’s is and so it squirms and twists in his mouth, touches at his tongue, the inside of his cheek, curls a little so it sits plump against the flat of Shiro’s tongue. Shiro’s obsessed with feeling that, could spend hours happily worshipping Keith’s cock if he could. 

Keith’s still slick from earlier and as he sucks one cock into his mouth, he fingers at Keith’s opening, slipping two fingers inside easily just to hear Keith’s gasping, frustrated groan. He twists and pulls his fingers inside Keith alongside the swirl of his tongue, dragging it down the wriggling length of Keith’s cock, suckles and laves his tongue along the underside. 

Shiro breathes out a laugh through his nose and swallows deeper around one of Keith’s cocks, the other shivering against his cheek. It’s an odd sensation, but Shiro can’t help but groan, closing his eyes and hollowing his cheeks, his hand lifting to press the second cock against his cheek, stroking over it and giving it some friction. 

He feels a sting at his hip as Keith bites him, fangs pointed and teasing. He’s merciless as he pumps his fingers inside Shiro, twisting and stroking, dragging desperate little sounds from inside Shiro.

It’s all overwhelming— it’s Keith all around him, inside his mouth, against his cheek, around his hand, twisting inside him. Shiro breathes out a low groan as he slackens his throat, lets Keith pump his hips forward and deeper into his mouth, his cock twisting deep into his mouth, deep enough nearly to choke. He starts fucking his face, his movements uneven and unpaced, focused both on thrusting his fingers inside Shiro and seeking the friction and pleasure of his tongue, pumping into Shiro’s open mouth. 

“Shiro,” Keith mewls when Shiro slides his tongue along the slit of Keith’s cock, tasting the oddly sweet taste of his precome. “Shiro, god, I’m going to—”

Shiro clenches around Keith’s fingers, his hips shivering and then twitching down, and he opens his mouth wider, ignoring that ache, and guides Keith’s second cock into his mouth. He swirls his tongue between the two of them, unsure what to do, unsure what to focus on. 

Keith cries out, head ducked against Shiro’s hip and panting, his body clenching around Shiro’s fingers inside him, his cocks spiraling together until they’re one solid weight against Shiro’s tongue, thick and girthy. He rocks his hips forward and Shiro chokes. Keith immediately tries to back off but Shiro grabs his hip and pulls him down instead, guiding Keith to stroke deep into his mouth. He breathes harshly through his nose, opens his mouth as wide as he can manage, and lets Keith thrust into him. He doesn’t choke again. 

With one last groan, Keith shudders and yanks away from Shiro. Shiro moans, nearly reaches for him, but Keith cups a hand around his cocks as he comes, catching the come with a shuddering gasp. Shiro keens again and nuzzles hard at Keith’s quivering thighs, nips at the join between leg and hip, and watches Keith above him, shuddering and shaking. It’s not a great angle to see Keith’s face when he comes, but there’ll be time for that later, Shiro thinks— mesmerized by the gasping sounds Keith makes, or the fact that Keith’s come has the slightest, barest tint of purple-blue. It’s almost iridescent. There’s so much of it. Two cock’s worth, his brain helpfully supplies.

Once Keith comes down, he rolls off Shiro and with some adjusting manages to lie facing him, reaching for him. Shiro kisses him and swallows every gasping, pleased little whimper Keith gives him. Shiro feels empty without Keith’s hand inside him, and two fingers is far from enough to prepare for two of Keith’s cocks, so he guides his Altean hand down to resume fingering himself, propping his leg up and getting that right angle to open himself without having to move. An untethered arm has its benefits, he thinks, especially if it means his other hand can take up Keith’s and lick at the come sticking between Keith’s fingers. 

Keith lets out a breathless little groan, his eyes cat-like and fangs poking out of his mouth as he pants, watching Shiro carefully as he drags his tongue across his fingertips. He squirms closer to Shiro, and Shiro groans when his cock nudges up against Keith’s body, sliding against the flat edge of his stomach, feels the curl of Keith’s slackened cocks squirming against his inner thighs. 

“They move a lot,” Shiro says, as if Keith wouldn’t even be aware of what his own cocks are doing. He gives another long lick over Keith’s fingers and sucks them into his mouth. 

“Yeah,” Keith answers, almost a purr, pupils blown wide.

Shiro knows he’s an idiot the moment he starts giggling and knows he’s going to have to explain it. He covers his face with his hand, blushing. “God, okay. Remember in those cartoons when we were kids, how like…”

“I’m not sure I like where this is going,” Keith warns, but Shiro can hear the smile in his voice. 

“There was… there was a cat that couldn’t talk and it’d make its tail into different shapes to communicate, instead. Like, now I’m picturing your dicks shaped like a question mark when you’re confused.” He barely gets through it before he starts giggling all over again and Keith groans, theatrically. 

“No,” Keith answers and that just makes Shiro laugh more. A moment later, Keith just chuckles, and then goes in for the kill as he glances down. “I could probably stroke you off with them, though.” 

He says it so casually and it’s utterly devastating. Shiro closes his eyes and _groans._ This only makes Keith laugh, a puff of air against his neck as he nibbles and licks at his neck, leaving marks. 

“Next time,” Shiro whispers. “I’m— so close, Keith. I need you.” 

Shiro bites back a soft sound as he presses another finger inside himself, working himself open as he sucks Keith’s fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue. 

“Mmm,” Keith hums, and he draws away from Shiro’s neck, studying his face. His hand is exceptionally gentle as he touches his face. His voice is soft, breathless, when he says, “I can’t believe how much you’re loving his.” 

Shiro smiles, unrestrained. “You’re perfect. You’re so beautiful. Keith—”

Keith laughs, blushing bright red, and leans in to kiss Shiro rather than be showered in compliments. He squirms closer and drops one hand down, joining Shiro’s hand to tease at his rim, pressing one finger inside just barely, stretching along with Shiro’s fingers. He swallows Shiro’s pleased gasp. 

“Ready for my cocks?” Keith asks once he breaks the kiss. He looks prideful now, confident and teasing, and Shiro _loves_ that, loves seeing that confidence, feeling Keith pressed against him, getting to see his face, the warmth in his eyes, the playfulness in his smile. 

“Yeah,” Shiro answers, breathless. “Please, sweetheart.” 

Keith kisses him again and again, short, shallow kisses that are nothing more than little pecks, but he’s smiling and Shiro’s chuckling, curling his arm around Keith to anchor him down close against him. 

“How do you want it?” Keith asks, nuzzling his jaw.

Shiro’s answer is immediate: “I want to see your face.” 

Keith laughs, blushing, but looks happy— and manhandles Shiro into the position he wants, flat on his back, hips pushed up with a pillow beneath him. Shiro squirms, feeling shy despite all of this, just because Keith’s eyes drag over him appreciatively. He’s used to Keith looking at him now, but it’s another feeling entirely when he does it fully naked and with the lights on. He lets his legs fall open, watches the flicker of desire light Keith’s eyes. 

Keith’s hair’s in complete disarray, falling to frame his face, his braid a complete mess. But he’s beautiful, and Shiro can’t help but reach for him, touches first the scar on his cheek, then the larger one at his shoulder, then traces his fingers down his chest. 

“Are you hard?” Shiro asks, looking at Keith’s cocks. 

“They’re basically always like this. Pliable, I guess?” Keith answers, and wills his cocks to steady as he holds them together in his hand. He doesn’t quite stroke his cocks the way Shiro does his own, the way Shiro did Keith’s, but something more twisting, favoring fingers more than palm. Shiro makes a note of that for next time. 

“I’m kind of jealous,” Shiro admits. “It takes a while after I come.” 

“I’ve noticed,” Keith teases, and grins when Shiro blushes. Keith moves up closer, hovering over him, fingers prodding at Shiro’s hole curiously, teasing and testing how loose he is. Shiro bites his lip, flushed. 

Keith doesn’t really need to guide his cock in— when he presses forward, the first cock strokes slowly over him, from the backs of his balls to his hole, and Shiro gasps out at the sensation, back arching. Keith nudges, slowly, and it slides in easily— there’s no flared cockhead to get past and instead the tapered end, Keith rolling his hips forward until Shiro’s full and then fuller still. It’s almost laughably anticlimactic. 

Shiro breathes out a little sigh, body shifting and adjusting. It’s been a while since he’s felt something other than his fingers, and Keith’s cock is smooth and silky inside him. He can feel it twitch and twist a bit, but otherwise Keith holds himself still as Shiro adjusts. 

“Good, Shiro?” Keith asks, his hands stroking over Shiro’s thighs as they quiver. Shiro nods, watching in a stunned silence as Keith’s second cock strokes along the length of Shiro’s cock, teasing. He should have known Keith wasn’t teasing about the stroking off bit, and watches with panting expectation as Keith’s cock twists around Shiro’s base like a corkscrew. 

“Babe,” is all Shiro can really manage and Keith chuckles, scooting up and forward to kiss him. Then, he pants against Keith’s mouth, “Fuck me.” 

Keith laughs but Shiro keeps whispering it between kisses, a string of pleas. Keith rocks his hips forward and strokes deep inside him. He’s full of Keith’s cock and Shiro groans as Keith sucks on his tongue, the pinching prick of Keith’s fangs centering him. 

“Keith,” he whimpers as Keith starts to move, setting a steady pace. Keith’s second cock unfurls from around Shiro’s and instead strokes against his stomach as he moves. “I want both of them, Keith. Please—”

“Aren’t you the one who always tells _me_ to be patient?” Keith teases, grinning, eyes bright and Galra, his hair sticking with sweat against his forehead. He’s so beautiful. Shiro’s breathless. He clings to Keith and can only ride it out, desperate and at his mercy as Keith moves a punishingly slow pace inside him. He feels so full. He’s gulping down air, gasping out something like Keith’s name. 

He isn’t sure what he keeps saying, nonsense words and praise, but Keith’s not left unaffected— he sees the shift and slide of Keith’s face, mesmerized by it since this is the first he’s been able to see it. Keith plants his hands down flat against the bed and arches over Shiro, thrusting into him. He bites his own lip and his eyes narrow, fueled on by a desire to make it good for Shiro, to do well. His confidence shines in his eyes and Shiro loves it, can’t get enough of it. 

“It’s so good, Keith,” Shiro murmurs only because he knows it’ll get Keith to purr, and he does, a low rattle deep in his chest that shakes through all of Shiro. Keith’s eyes flash, dragging over Shiro’s body as he arches and shudders beneath him.

“You’re mine,” Keith tells him and Shiro nods, surges up to kiss him and Keith smiles into the kiss, licks into his mouth. 

“Yours,” Shiro agrees and Keith’s hand fists tight in Shiro’s hair and pulls him up closer, shoves up against Shiro’s hips until he’s nearly bent in half and it’s _perfect_. He didn’t know Keith could get possessive, but he loves it, his entire body responding to that— desperate to assure him, to promise him. _Yours, always._

It’s something primal that builds between them. Keith doesn’t get rough but rougher than Shiro expected, thrusting deep into Shiro, enough that Shiro can hear the slap of skin to skin, hear the pleased growls Keith lets loose as he bites at Shiro’s neck. 

He doesn’t warn Shiro when his second cock squirms down between them and nudges at Shiro’s rim. Shiro gasps, his entire body going slack with desire. 

“Please,” he whispers into Keith’s ear and Keith nods around a pleased purr. 

Keith reaches out and grabs the lube, pours a liberal amount between them and Shiro can’t hear the squelching noises over his own expectant panting. He clenches around Keith’s cock even as Keith nudges and slides his fingers through the mess, slicks Shiro up. Shiro knows what that means. 

It takes patience, a little nudging and waiting, but when Keith’s second cock tugs at the edge of Shiro’s rim, Shiro can’t help the helpless groan that punches out of him. He’s never felt so stretched and Keith’s dick isn’t even inside him yet. Keith waits, his body trembling, holding himself back, and Shiro feels around blindly until he can get his fist around Keith’s cock and guide him inside. 

He breathes through his nose, forces himself to relax. It’s a lot. Shiro’s impressed with himself for how many of his Altean fingers he can get inside himself, but Keith’s two cocks together are wider and thicker than anything Shiro’s had inside. He starts panting, sweat clinging to him, and his own cock flags a little. 

Keith strokes his hands over him, his voice graveled out and hoarse against his ear as he whispers praise, reassurances. Shiro shivers every time one of Keith’s fangs nearly nicks his skin. 

Shiro can’t even feel embarrassed by the way he’s reacting, his entire body shaking apart, spreading his thighs and letting Keith nudge closer, that purr vibrating through his body at every point of connection with Keith. He’s overwhelmed, completely overwhelmed, just by how absolutely he loves this man—

“Please,” he begs, doesn’t care that he’s begging. 

He’s never felt so full. He wants to feel fuller. He lets go of Keith’s cock just to push the tips of his fingers inside himself and tug, spread himself, to make more room for Keith to slide inside. The stretch is almost painful, almost burns, but he doesn’t care if it means Keith’s inside him, Keith’s pressed here against him. 

When he feels Keith shift, feels two cocks slide inside him, Shiro throws his head back into something like a sob, something incomprehensible and thrumming. Keith grabs his hair and pulls him up into a sloppy kiss and Shiro whimpers, wriggles his hips as he adjusts to the stretch. He’s so full. He’s so full and he feels like he’s being split in half. He can feel Keith’s cocks inside him, stroking inside him like fingers, nudging deeper and deeper still. 

He wraps his legs around Keith’s waist, heels pressing into the small of his back, and pushes him in deeper. The angle’s tight, and he feels tears prick at the corners of his eyes, leak out, and Keith growls and bites his mouth, kisses him sloppy. 

“I’m yours, too,” Keith whispers against his mouth, gentler this time. Shiro’s gone completely nonverbal, only able to nod his head. 

Keith grips his thighs, lifting them up as he rocks hard into Shiro’s body, open and pliant beneath him. Shiro gasps, nearly sobs, rocking his hips back to meet him as Keith fills him, his two cocks twisting inside him, his hips swiveling to thrust up against Shiro’s. 

Shiro paws at Keith, reaching blindly, touching him wherever he can reach and gripping. He lets out little hupping sounds, pants punctuated by the thrust of Keith’s hips. Keith groans, edged with a growl, and moves faster and deeper against him. 

Like that, time seems to slow. All Shiro can feel is the drag of Keith’s cocks inside him, his hands gripping him tight, claws biting into his skin. 

He feels Keith move faster and faster, more frenzied. Something connects in his fuzzing brain and he opens his eyes, desperate to watch every shift and change on Keith’s face. His eyes are pinched shut in concentration as he moves, fangs digging into his lip, cheeks flushed. He growls, his purr rumbling deep in his chest. 

Shiro swivels his hips counter to Keith’s pace, angles his hips to slam to meet him, and then clenches around him. He watches Keith’s mouth fall open and he _gasps._

“Shiro,” Keith cries out, voice broken and desperate, possessive around the sound of his name. 

He can only manage a keen in response and clenches around him again, paws at Keith’s body and then touches his cheek. 

“Keith,” he manages, and Keith ducks his head. “Please,” Shiro whispers. “Let me see you.”

With effort, Keith drags his head up and opens his eyes. Keith thrusts hard into him a few more times, shallower now, his cocks swelling inside him. He feels so much thicker, suddenly, and Shiro is so tight around him, so desperate, his body aching with desire. 

He watches Keith’s face as he comes, studies the way his eyes pulse into those slits once more, purple and yellow at once before they slam shut, his fangs lengthening, his mouth open around his groan of Shiro’s name. 

Shiro feels Keith come inside him, feels his body swell with Keith’s come. He presses his hands against his belly in a vain hope of feeling him closer, deeper. Keith shifts inside him, rocks and then stills as his body shudders and heaves above him. 

Keith reaches out blindly and palms at Shiro’s cock. Shiro’s so on edge it takes only a few haphazard strokes before Shiro’s clenching around Keith’s cocks and coming with a cry, his entire body bowing, his eyes clenched tight as he pants. 

Shiro feels oversensitive, a panting, shivering mess beneath Keith. Keith unfolds himself from above him, sets Shiro’s legs back down and squirms closer, biting and licking at the marks left at Shiro’s collar and neck. 

“Keith,” Shiro whimpers, and Keith answers the silent request— lifting up to kiss him sweetly. Shiro feels that shift in Keith, as well, the moment the teeth nibbling at his bottom lip are only Human and not Galra. 

Shiro’s hand shakes as he lifts it and twists it tight in Keith’s hair, dislodging the last remnants of his braid and letting his hair fall loose and silky around him, brushing over his chest. Even that’s enough to get Shiro to shudder, his entire body electric and pinprick sensitive. 

Keith felt so full inside him, but as he empties his come, Shiro feels him— not quite soften, but lessen, shrink a bit. He feels less like he’s being split open and more like he’s comfortably full. Shiro casts one mournful thought to his long shift tomorrow standing at the captain’s console, but that’s a problem for the next solar cycle.

He loops his arms loosely around Keith’s shoulders and nuzzles against his face, letting out chuffing little breaths and nosing at his jaw. Keith endures it with a small, pleased sigh, his eyes closed and lips quirked into a little smile. 

Keith strokes his hands over him, comforting him, soothing him. He doesn’t dare move his hips, aware of how sensitive Shiro must be feeling. But he dotes on him, moving to kiss his face— his nose, his mouth, his cheeks. Shiro accepts it with a quiet whimper. 

When he opens his eyes, it’s because he feels Keith watching him. He’s studying his face carefully and when their eyes meet, Keith’s expression softens. 

“I really love you,” Keith whispers, stroking his fingers— without claws now— against Shiro’s cheek. 

Shiro smiles, weak. He feels flushed and happy and satisfied. He covers Keith’s hand with his own. 

“Love you, too, babe,” he murmurs, voice raspy. 

Keith kisses him, sweet and short. He presses his forehead to his once they part, sharing that same space. “… Thanks,” Keith says, after a pause, “for not being freaked out about my weird Galra nonsense.” 

Shiro chuckles. “Please. Mark me down for enthusiastically horny when it comes to anything about you.” 

“Noted,” Keith says around a pleased laugh. “… I mean it.” 

“I know,” Shiro murmurs. He smiles at him. “Keith. I love everything about you.” 

“I’m getting that impression,” Keith concedes. He laughs, smiling. “That feeling’s mutual, by the way.” 

“Glad to know you aren’t disappointed by my cock’s distinct lack of dexterity,” Shiro says. 

Keith laughs. “You have other talents.” 

Shiro hums and lets Keith wriggle in to kiss him. When he slips out of him, slow and careful, they both groan. Shiro feels infinitely empty and squirms when Keith tries to clean him up. He quickly gives up once Shiro hooks his leg over Keith’s hip and drags him in close to kiss him instead. 

He knows they’ll have to clean up properly, but in the meantime, Keith lets Shiro fumble his way through braiding his hair back up for him. He massages his fingers over his scalp just so Keith will breathe out a stuttered little purr, blushing at his reaction. The braid’s not nearly as neat or tight as Keith can manage it, but he smiles all the same when Shiro kisses the crook of his jaw once he’s done. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs into his ear, just because he knows it’ll make Keith laugh. 

Keith does, blushing, and turns his head to nuzzle into his neck. Shiro knows he’s going to be overly sore for Alpha shift tomorrow, but it’s worth it if he gets to hold Keith like this through the whole night. They fall asleep with the lights on.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) (including the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/commentbuilder)), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:
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